The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Grandma Tollard met Jeannie at the front door, her long grey hair askew. She seized Jeannie’s arm with one bony hand. “Thank you for coming, dear.”
“What happened?”
“I…we, that is…he…he had a heart attack and—”
“Did you call 911?”
“—he’s dead. I called Fr. Jenson.”
Grandma clutched her lace peignoir robe at the neck and led Jeannie to the bedroom. Biting her quivering lip, Jeannie pulled the sheet over her grandfather’s grinning countenance.
She wrapped a comforting arm around her weeping grandmother.
Grandma sniffed. “I’ll never forget his final words to me.”
“What were they?”
“‘Hi-ho Silver!’”
Many thanks to my BFF Jeannie O’Hare for her generosity in allowing me to share her strange but true family stories. Some things just can’t be made up…but they can be embellished.
Jeannie and me
To hear my interview on Impact USA radio last week CLICK HERE
One of my favorite song quotes comes from the late John Lennon’s “Beautiful Boy.” “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” August was a busy month, but September has followed suit, leaving little time blog. I suppose better late than never applies.
Traditionally for the Fields of Belton, Missouri, the first two weeks of August is when Jan goes to Sturgis, SD for the annual bike rally. It’s also the time when the missus, ie me, has time to relax and hang around the house. However, this year, I didn’t spend nearly as much time relaxing as I’d expected.
Yours Truly with Diane Yates
The first weekend, I packed up the purple tent, books, and artwork. With my good friend Barbara I drove to Fayette, Missouri for the weekend to take part in the Fayette Arts Festival where we stayed with my co-author and friend Diane Yates. Although the weather was unseasonably cold and wet, we girls had a great time. We even sold a few books. 😉 With all of our husbands off and running, the three of us spent Saturday night watching a movie, sipping wine and gabbing into the wee hours.
One of the things I love about doing these signings is the people I meet. Drawn in by the artwork and my novels’ connection to my family, someone will tell me, often in great detail, about their own backgrounds. Great fun.
Wednesday, August 9th, my cousin Kent and I headed to midtown where I was scheduled to do an interview on ArtSpeak on local radio station KKFI, Kansas City’s answer to NPR. He took the picture below during the interview.
Here’s the podcast of that interview. Note: I wasn’t the only guest. You’ll find my slot at 27:39. Friday Fictioneers gets a nod as I read three flash fictions and told Maria how I stumbled into one of the best things I’ve ever done.
Following the interview, Kent and I spent the afternoon meandering around KC’s famous Country Club Plaza. We spent at least an hour in Barnes & Noble’s media room geeking out over DVD’s. We capped off the day by devouring our favorite barbecue at Snead’s BBQ, another Kansas City tradition.
Leawood Barnes & Noble book signing, August 12.
Truly, the crowning moments of the month happened in Branson at the Ozarks Writers League (OWL) conference which happens four times a year. I’ve been a part of and learned much from this generous group of writers for the past ten years. This year I had the opportunity to give back in leading a workshop entitled “Using Flash Fiction as a Writing Tool.” Two FFr’s, our own class clown, Russell Gayer and Cuzzin Kent Bonham served as my peanut gallery (for those who remember Howdy Doody).
A month ahead I sent out the photo prompt and challenged the OWLs to write a 100 word story, giving them a taste of Friday Fictioneers, using the same prompt we used that week on the blog challenge. As always, it’s entertaining to hear the different takes on the same photo. OWL president, Diane Yates and her husband Ricky both took part which was fun since the photo is that of their converted closet shower that he built with his own two hands.
August is the month of the OWL Annual Art Contest with three categories: 2 dimensional art, 3 dimensional and photography. Best in Show (not to be confused with the famous dog show) is awarded by the entry the judges consider the best of the 3 first place winners. I was pleased to learn that I won first and second place for 2 dimensional and the trophy. 😀
Since my husband Jan, my favorite roadie, cheerleader and wind beneath my wings, took the photos he isn’t in any of them.
Yours Truly took Best in Show in the OWL art contest.
Presenting Flash Fiction as a writing tool.
Class Clown
Russell voicing his surprise at being a part of the power point presentation.
Kent Bonham reading his entry.
Diane Yates reading her entry.
Of course I included my darling granddaughter in the presentation. Bubbie’s prerogative.
Workshop participant, Margarite Stevers.
Workshop participant, Jane Hale.
Winners of the annual OWL art contest.
Everyone received a certificate, suitable for framing.
Ricky Yates’ Masterpiece. The converted closet shower.
Russell in the flesh. What a treat to visit with him in person.
Ricky Yates giving the history of the shower and reading his entry.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Note that there is both streetview and photospheres at this location.
To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:
For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this unique challenge and for giving me an extra 50 words to play with each week.
This week I brought back one that I posted three years ago in Friday Fictioneers and added 50 words to it. I enjoyed the rewrite, I hope you enjoy the reread. 😉
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 150
THE JUMPING FLEA
“Better to harvest the sugarcane fields in Hawaii than starve in Madeira,” João Fernandes told his reluctant wife. “You’ll see, we will have a better life there.”
“Portugal is home. Português is the only language we speak.”
“We’ll build a new home and learn a new language.”
During the monotonous, sometimes perilous, four months at sea she spent most of her time retching over the side of the ship. He, on the other hand, entertained his fellow immigrants on the braguinha.
____
Enamored with the new music form and João’s lively style, the Hawaiians treated him and his little guitar like royalty. Even Queen Lili’uokalani requested private evening concerts.
One lonely night, homesick for her mountains, Senhora Fernandes waited up for him.
At long last, he burst through the door. “Behold the queen’s favorite musician!”
She seized his ukulele and smashed it to pieces over his head. “Behold your instrument!”
***
For your listening pleasure. It’s kind of long but, if you have an extra 6 minutes to spare. This is no tiptoe through the tulips.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
On an early November morning in 1909, Charles Stewart walked the deserted Kansas City cross-streets of Locust and Eighth. Weary after his team’s defeat, he reached his hotel. Throat raw, loyal fan that he was, he entered his enclosed hallway and cut loose.
“Rock chalk Jayhawk…!”
The next day, expecting the usual chastisement for his rowdy behavior, he met instead with cheers from other guests proclaiming him a hero.
Mr. Blank slapped the bewildered youth’s back. “Had it not been for your caterwauling, a burglar and his buddy would’ve robbed us all blind. You scared the bejabbers out of them.”
*Originally the cheer was created for KU’s (Kansas University in Lawrence, Kansas) science club by chemistry professor E. H. Bailey in 1886. Former President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed it the greatest college chant of all time. Give a listen to what some have referred to as chilling. 😉
Kent’s photo put me back on that tour bus with Zvi. Normally I eschew Friday Fictioneers sequels or double dipping. With red, although unapologetic, countenance I am doing both this week.🙄
Genre: Memoir/Anecdote
Word Count: 100
HOW IS MY DRIVING?
A rather shy man, our Israeli bus driver, Gabi had a welcoming smile for everyone. Every day we spoke, he in halting English and I in limited Hebrew.
What a driver! He maneuvered that behemoth through narrow streets I wouldn’t dare attempt to navigate in my Saturn. I was reminded of cartoon car chases where vehicles curved around corners like Gumby.
My seatmate grasped the armrest, her knuckles white. “He must ride a motorcycle.”
“Ahtah rokhev al ofanoah?” I asked him.
His sunny expression gave way to horror. “Lo! Mesukahn! Mesukahn!” He flashed his pocket translator which read, “Dangerous! Perilous!”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Most people I know have fond memories of their first automobile. Mine was a used 1971 royal blue Volkswagen Beetle. Fun size—like me.
My father hated it. “A Jew has no business driving a Nazi-mobile.”
The kids loved to sit in the ‘back-back,’ a mini cargo hold behind the rear seat and the bug was easy to maneuver. I enjoyed tootling around in it until the clutch went out. The heater worked great—all summer. Other quirks included slowing to a crawl at busy intersections while I floored the gas pedal and prayed.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Darren scratched his ear with a straightened paperclip. Gina slapped it from his hand. “Stop! You’ll perforate your eardrum!”
“Then I won’t havta hear your nagging.”
“Ohhh, just do your homework.”
“Do your own.” He rolled his eyes. “Sisters.”
“My report’s done.” She stacked three typewritten pages and paper-clipped the corners together. “Consider the lowly paperclip. Know who invented it?”
“Who cares?”
“Some think it was Johan Vaaler, a Norwegian. But it was actually an American, William D. Middlebrook, who even patented the machine to make them in 1899. Whaddya think?”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
He smiled from his front seat on the bus. Zvi obviously enjoyed his job—introducing a group of dusty pilgrims to Eretz Yisra’el.
“The field on the left is 100% cotton. On the right—50% polyester.”
Looking beyond his twinkling eyes, one could see the depth of his faith and commitment to his ancient homeland. I only imagined what he experienced as an IDF soldier in 1967 for he avoided speaking of it.
Eleven years later I still hear his voice and his daily greeting.
“Today in Israel there is no rain, there is no snow. Don’t worry. Be happy.”
Zvi with his daughter Sarah, also a tour guide.
Shalom!
“Move, you dumb ass!” “Yes, dear.” With Cuzzin Kent.
Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.
To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:
For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for heading up this challenge, one that I can’t seem to avoid. 😉 I’m not even caught up on my Friday Fictioneers reading, commenting and replying.
The Gold Souk in Dubai
Genre: Memoir
Word Count: 150
PRICELESS
“Cash for your old gold,” boasted a reputable local jeweler.
He set up a table at the front of the grocery store where I worked as a cake designer. There he made his offer to employees and customers alike.
“Wish I had something to trade in, I could use the money,” said Maggie, my coworker. “You got anything?”
My husband is something of a jewelry junkie and bought some stunning gold pieces while stationed in Dubai during the Gulf War. Nothing I care to part with. My favorite is a simple heart ring, the symbol of storms we’ve weathered in our marriage.
“Nah, but I wonder what this is actually worth.”
Maggie took it and left the bakery. When she returned she tossed it on the counter. “It’s fake.”
Isn’t it sad that a “trained professional” didn’t recognize 24 carat gold?
Like my daddy used to say, “It’s always something.”
*
*
It’s rarely left my right index finger since December 1999. 24 carat gold is soft and easily bent. BUT it’s never turned my finger green.
